Despite a measure of uncertainty lingering in his heart Rhogar still whispered "Hold" to his compatriots had they not already sensed his hesitance, and squinted into the gloom. After a moment or two he did to whisper again. "Nothics. Several. At this distance, I'm... not certain of exact numbers." The dragonborn rubbed at his jaw, seeming to consider something or other. "This pressure... different then... different from others met back in tunnel. Just slight. Could be these are the ones that followed the drow before, and could be.... hmm... Could be professor could speak with them, but...." Rhogar grimaces and shook his head. "These ones more likely to snatch it up over parlay I think."

Krom immediately stops as he hears Rhogar's whisper. "I see them too, now." The dwarf pauses for a moment before whispering again, "You are probably right, they could be the ones who were after the drow." The dwarf glances towards the others, "Yes, we could ask the Professor to speak to them and possibly gain further knowledge, or we could leave them be and head straight to the Tower of Evocation." The dwarf gestures at the ruined museum. "I don't think we're going to find anything useful to our quest here."

"If they are looking for relics then the prof may be just what they are looking for.   I say we let them be and get out of here. I doubt there is anything of value left in this place if nothics have been rummaging through it all." Chill whispers

Kazri makes a silent hand gesture to Olie, and he slowly heads back to the stairs. "If we are leaving these creatures alone, I will watch our back." Kazri also whispers.

"Hmm... Perhaps..." Was the dragonborn response to Krom initially, though he hadn't sounded completely convinced. However, at Chill's further insistence Rhogar finally nodded along in agreement. "Verily well. Let us be swift but quiet." Rhogar said, before carefully backtracking for the stairs as point man for the retreat. But once the group was at least safetly topside once more he'd more than happily let the usual suspects overtake him during the journey to the next tower. 

Krom nods in agreement and follows the group as they exit the museum. "I guess we'll have to make a Nether Oak wand ourselves," he says, adjusting his grip on his hammer as they head toward the next tower.

Satisfied to leave the Nothics to their relentless pillaging of the Museum, you push forward, disappointment lingering from your fruitless search for anything of value. The ruins of the Necropolis of Ythryn stretch out before you, an eerie testament to a civilization lost to time. Frost clings to shattered spires, and the remnants of ancient magic hum faintly in the air as you make your way toward the Tower of Evocation.

The structure looms ahead, its top shaped like the curved blade of an axe. A sinister red glow pulses from a narrow window high above, casting elongated shadows against the icy ruins. As you step inside, an unsettling silence greets you—the tower appears abandoned. Yet, signs of past devastation mark its interior. The walls and floors are scarred by fire, lightning, and acid, evidence of centuries of destructive spellcasting. The air carries the faint scent of ozone and charred stone, and the once-grand structure now bears the wounds of untamed magical forces.

A spiral staircase winds upward, its steps worn but sturdy, leading to the tower’s apex. As you ascend, a strange glow intensifies, the crimson light from above flickering against the stairwell’s walls. Emerging into the topmost chamber, you find yourself in an octagonal room, thirty feet in diameter, where red orbs of light drift and swirl like restless fireflies. The arched ceiling glistens with icicles, refracting the glow in an otherworldly dance of light and shadow. At the room’s center stands a large, unlit brazier, its blackened surface hinting at a long-forgotten purpose. Lining the chamber’s walls, eight ten-foot-square alcoves stand frozen in time, each filled with thick layers of ice. The weight of the ancient magic here is palpable, as if the air itself hums with anticipation, waiting for something—or someone—to awaken its secrets.

Krom remains alert, hammer and shield at the ready as the group explores the ruined tower. Upon reaching the topmost chamber, the dwarf gestures towards the unlit brazier at its center. "What do you make of this?" Krom asks. "Should we attempt to lit it, or check the alcoves first?" The dwarf pats his miner's pick as he finishes speaking.

Chill looks about the room, knowing that Krom and his hammer are close of trouble arises.

"The riddle may be covered in ice. " He says as he looks about.   He checks the alcove and walls and ceiling for any signs of writing.

Perception 28

Unfortunately, even after giving the general surroundings of the upper level a once over, an answer from Rhogar remained less than swift in coming from the dragonborn. But as he made to approach the brazier and run a finger along its blackened surface to try picking up residue worth examining, avoiding as best he can the orbs of light along the way, he calmly say, "To recklessly light anything within it would be to but invite disaster. I'll see to the brazier and perhaps by extension the orbs. And -- oh! Do be mindful about calling upon miracles and the like in this room. Who knows may yet respond to such, or in what way for that matter." In spite of being visible unnerved about the approach, Gorrah remained steadfast in staying tucked in Rhogar's hood. 

-Nature: 17. (To see if he can glean anything about the type of materials that might've been burned in the brazier in the past. Add 4 more to results if able to use Arcane instead)

Kazri is worried about unseen enemies, and she takes out the Lantern of Revealing and check the room. "What do you suggest that we do Mr. Nimbatuul?"

Perception: 15

Chill scans the room with a cautious eye, his gaze sweeping across the frost-covered stone walls and the icy floor beneath his feet. As he conducts his inspection, his attention is drawn to the ceiling, where an inscription is faintly visible. However, a thick layer of ice obscures the text, making it impossible to read without removing the frozen barrier.

Turning his focus to the alcoves lining the chamber, Chill steps forward, his breath misting in the cold air. Each alcove contains a massive 10-foot cube of ice, their surfaces smooth and eerily reflective. He studies them carefully, noting their uniformity—until his eyes catch on something different. One of the cubes holds a dark silhouette within its frozen heart. Stepping closer, he realizes it is the skeletal remains of a humanoid figure, its bones locked in eternal stillness, preserved by the relentless cold.

Meanwhile, Kazri raises the Lantern of Revealing, allowing its magical glow to wash over the chamber. The soft light flickers and pulses, but no hidden secrets are unveiled. There are no invisible entities lurking in the shadows, no illusions to pierce—only the cold, unyielding reality of the frozen tomb.

Rhogar, deep in thought, studies the soft, wavering lights that drift through the chamber. Their gentle glow casts shifting reflections across the icy surfaces, creating an eerie and almost hypnotic effect. After a moment of contemplation, he nods to himself, recognizing the nature of the lights. "Dancing Lights," he mutters, confirming his suspicion. The magic at play here is simple but effective, casting an unsettling atmosphere over the chamber.

Finally, the group turns its attention to the brazier standing at the center of the room. It is curiously clean, with no traces of ash, soot, or charred remains. Whatever purpose it once served, it has not been used in a long time—if ever. The lack of any remnants suggests it was either meticulously maintained or never ignited at all, or possibly something else. This is the Tower of Evocation. Evocation magic is a school of magic that focuses on the creation and manipulation of raw magical energy.  Perhaps a magical fire is burned in the brazier.

As Chill points out the location of the hidden text, Krom grins. "Sharp eyes as always, Chill. Nothing escapes you!"
The dwarf circles the room, studying the ceiling and the thick layer of ice with a thoughtful expression. After a moment, he nods and pats the Ring of the Ram on his finger. "A well-placed hit from the spectral ram should be more than enough to shatter that ice."
He pauses, glancing at the others. "Unless someone has a less invasive method?" Krom waits for any alternative suggestions before raising his hand, ready to conjure the spectral ram.

Chill reports everything he sees.   

"Yes that may work.   Though my concern would be damaging the letters and we lose the meaning." He says in answer to Krom's question. 

"But these cubes concern me as well.   Perhaps the Ring is the best.  Let's not disturb or thaw anything else if we tried to use heat to clear the ice from the ceiling. "

"To be honest, I concur with Chill. If even a character is off due to a significant crack, its true meaning is liable to be lost forever." Rhogar conveys, both in answer to Kazri and in response to Krom's suggestion. "However, without further guidance of the ancients, it would seem we have little choice. So, do try your ring, Master Krom. And if that fails we'll see if we can yet thaw it out via the brazier, as I have an idea on that front." 

"You are both right, we cannot risk to damage the inscription." Krom nods. The dwarf scratches his chin then nods once again. "I'll try to transform the ice around it, if it doesn't work I'll use the ring."
Krom chants an hymn of transmutation attempting to melt and reshape the thick layer of ice into a statue of Moradin.

"Perhaps might be a good idea for Chill and Mr. Nimbatuul to wait outside of this room while Master Krom uses the ring? Just in case if anything unforeseeable happens..." Says Kazri looking up at the ceiling. "I will stay with Master Krom." Kazri has Oli stay by the stairs.

"Mn. Fair enough, Lady Kazri, regardless of the means Master Krom may employ, a measure of safety should be ignored. Though, I....I..." Rhogar trails off from there giving Kazri a conflicted look. But then follow a shake of his head, he forces her forces an assuring smile to spread across his mug, then made his way towards the stairs to wait for the moment.

Chill shakes his head.  "Nah, we stand and fall together. I ain't leaving."

Krom chants the words of his spell, his voice echoing through the cold chamber. Over the next ten minutes, the ice clinging to the ceiling begins to shift and mold, slowly taking shape. As the magic weaves through the frost, it forms a detailed statue of Moradin, the Dwarven All-Father, emerging on the floor of the chamber. At the same time, Draconic script etched into the ceiling becomes visible, the frost receding enough to reveal the ancient words. Rhogar reads them clearly: “Fifth, quench the flame in thy palm with ice.”